


The Tale of Iroh and Azaila

by penguinated



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinated/pseuds/penguinated
Summary: A little glimpse into Iroh and his wife's life as they start a family.





	The Tale of Iroh and Azaila

                Azaila carefully sat on the red silk bedspread. The bedroom was painted almost entirely red with gold around the border. She could hardly take in what it looked like, despite having occupied it for many years now. She was too anxious, for her husband, Prince Iroh, was returning home from war on temporary leave today, and she had some very important news to inform him of.

                Last time he was home, it was only for a night - their third anniversary - and then he was gone for two more months. Not that this bothered her much anymore. She was a military wife, and knew well what sacrifices they both had to make for him to be as successful as he was. This moment irked her simply because she wanted to tell him the news; the news of her pregnancy.

                'Oh, I wish he would get here,' she thought, bouncing her leg on the ball of her foot impatiently. Then she stopped very suddenly. 'What am I going to say? How am I supposed to tell him something so important?!'

                She got up and hustled to her mirror. She would practice how to tell her husband she was pregnant with their first child. She stared at her reflection and took in the sight of herself. She had breast-length, black hair. Her skin was fair and smooth like porcelain, and her eyes were black as coal. Her lips were a deep red, and shaped like a doll's. Her neck was long and elegant. She had slim shoulders and a perfect, hourglass shape. Yes, she was as beautiful as they came. She was also graceful and quiet like a proper princess. Many of the men of the Fire Nation were disappointed with Admiral Shu's daughter was married off to the Prince Iroh.

                Azaila remembered their courtship fondly. Iroh was so different from the other suitors. He made her laugh till she cried and her sides hurt so bad she could hardly breathe. He also spent less time bragging and boasting about his own accomplishments like a pompous airhead, and more time asking her about _her_. Even more, he was her suitor because he genuinely loved her, not just because she was the daughter of an admiral and he was the crowned prince. He courted her for three years before they got engaged, and that lasted six months. This was unusual for the prince, but Iroh wanted a happy, loving marriage, not one of convenience. She admired and loved him because of this and their marriage was a successful one. Their parents could not have been more pleased either.

                There was a loud, official knock at the door.

                "Princess," said the voice of a servant. "Your husband has just arrived. He is currently speaking to Fire Lord Azulon, but instructed me to tell you to wait here for him. He will be up soon."

                Azaila opened the door, and the servant lowered her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "Tell him that I'm here and ready for him."

                She bowed and hurried back down the hall, each step of her foot quieter than the last. When her footsteps became inaudible, Azaila closed the door and went back to her mirror. She experimented with different facial expressions, tones, and word choices. She was horribly disappointed with all of it, and groaned loudly in frustration at her futile attempts to make this moment a special one.

                "My dearest love!" greeted a voice from behind her.

                Azaila whipped around with a broad smile on her face and flung herself into her husband's loving arms. Immediately, they were locked in a kiss, and after a moment that passed like a century, they broke apart.

                "I'm so glad you're home!" she cried and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him once more for good measure. He began to kiss down her neck, and his beard tickled, causing her to let out a small giggle, at which he chuckled.

                Playfully, he scooped her up and gently tossed her onto their bed and began to tickle her all over. Unfortunately for her, Azaila was quite possibly the most ticklish person in the Fire Nation, and Iroh knew it, which only made things worse. He ran his fingers over her neck and tummy making her shriek with mirth.

                "Hey, now!" she attempted to scold through gasps of laughter. "You need to be more careful there. It's fragile!"

                He stopped abruptly and she caught her breath. He raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "Why? Are you sick?"

                "Well, no," she answered, growing more nervous with each breath. "It's bigger than that, and I mean that in the most literal of ways."

                He glanced at her belly, and then shot her a very quizzical look. She beckoned him closer with her finger. He leaned forward so that their noses were touching.

                "What is it, love?" he inquired.

                "I'm with a child," she replied.

                Iroh's eyes got wide and rounded like an owl's. He pulled his face away and gaped at her. His expression was difficult to read, and that made Azaila nervous.

                "Are you sure?" he questioned.

                "Yes," she told him, allowing her disappointment in his reaction to show. "Shouldn't you be happy? I mean, we're going to have a child, and you're acting like I've just slapped you in the face. Now I feel like I should, the way you're handling it."

                Iroh looked away. "I'm not upset," he assured her, and his voice broke on the last word. "I'm so happy!" he said as he looked back at her, and his eyes were shining with tears as a smile swept over his face.

                Azaila beamed back at him. "Crying already?" she teased. "You're going to be a blubbering mess when he's born!"

 

*                                                             7 MONTHS LATER                                                                             *

 

                Iroh was pacing in his study. He had been pacing for so long, it was surprising there was not a trench in the floor. If he had not stopped for a drink of tea, he would not have heard the soft knock on the door.

                "Come in," he said, setting down his tea.

                "My Prince," said the small voice of a young nurse as she poked her head in the door. "Your son has just been delivered successfully. He is fine, and so is the princess."

                Iroh released a sigh of great relief. "Thank goodness," he said. Then his excitement got the better of him, and he shouted, "Thank you so much!" and embraced the nurse, who was quite taken aback.

                "Sir," she said uncomfortably. "You can go in now if you like. Princess Azaila wants to see you and for you to see the baby."

                "Yes, of course!" Iroh agreed as he set the nurse down, kissed her on the cheek, and fled down the corridor to see his newborn son, leaving the young lady stricken in the doorway of the study.

                He entered the bedroom to find about three other nurses rummaging about. His eyes sought out his darling wife and son. One of the nurses spotted him in the doorway.

                "Oh, Prince Iroh!" she gasped. "Princess Azaila is asleep and your son is still being cleaned up. You'll be able to hold him in a few moments. Shall I wake up your wife for you?"

                "No, thank you," he replied. "I'll just sit by her until she wakes up." He did so, and climbed onto the bed next to the sleeping Azaila. Then they brought him his baby.

                What a beautiful baby he was! Lu Ten was the name they had chosen for a boy, and Lu Ten was now - in Iroh's eyes - the most wonderful, magical, spectacular thing in the universe. Iroh cradled his personal miracle in his arms and looked into those amber eyes that melted his heart.

                "Congratulations, sir," said the nurse.

                "When a woman gives birth, she risks her life," said Iroh, eyeing his wife. "And when the baby is born, everyone around her is blessed." He looked back at the nurse. "You have helped to bless me with the boy I hold in my arms. I cannot thank you enough."

                She smiled at him, blushing a little before she bowed and left Iroh with his family.

 

*                                                                             2 YEARS LATER                                                                   *

 

                "I don't understand!" Iroh cried in despair. "Why is she sick?"

                He had been in the palace infirmary for nearly two hours waiting for doctors to explain why his wife had suddenly passed out while playing with Lu Ten, who had been left with a governess. Being only two, he was blissfully oblivious to the crisis facing his parents.

                "Well, Sir," said one doctor. "We have been trying to find out, but it's very difficult-"

                He was interrupted by another doctor stepping into the waiting room. "We know what happened," he told them gravely.

                "What is it?" Iroh demanded, rushing at the doctor and grabbing his shoulders to stress the urgency.

                "She had a miscarriage," the doctor reported, refusing to meet the prince's gaze. "She's...not going to make it. We can't figure out what went wrong, and therefore at a loss to help her. I'm so sorry, Sir. But she wants to talk to you."

                Iroh released the doctor, who immediately relaxed. Iroh fought back tears. Azaila could not see him upset in her last moments. He stepped out of the room, and started down the hall, which seemed to stretch before him, as if this would be the longest walk of his life. It turned out that it was. Each second that passed as he walked felt like a year. With each step, came more dread at the thought of losing his wife. His heartbeat was rapid, as if it were trying to beat for both him and his dying Azaila.

                When he opened the door, the nurses jumped, took in who it was, and then scurried out of the room. Azaila lifted her head and, realizing she was too weak to keep it up, rested it back on the pillow.

                "Azaila," Iroh said as he sat down beside her and took her hand. "How are you?"

                "Well, I'm dying. How are you?" she joked. Iroh did not laugh. "Oh, come on," she urged, but there was only a long pause. "I suppose that was funnier in my head."

                "You wanted to see me, love," Iroh insisted, changing the subject.

                "Yes," she confirmed. "I just wanted to spend my last moments alone with you. Tell you how much I love you, how much I'm going to miss you, all that jazz."

                "So tell me," he encouraged her.

                "How do I begin?" she pondered aloud. "I'm going to miss you more than anything. The way you missed me when you went away, only thousands of times worse. And I suppose you will miss me just as much..." she trailed off, short for breath. "I don't even think I could express in words how much I love you. I could try, but I don't want to waste my time."

                He nodded in understanding. "Is there anything else?" he asked. "Before I let you go?"

                "Yes," she answered in a sigh. "Never...stop loving...our son...our Lu Ten," she requested.

                "Is that all?" he continued, eager to keep her with him for even a few seconds longer.

                She nodded in reply, and her voice was barely audible when she said, "We'll see each other again, Iroh. In the next life. I love you." With that, she squeezed his hand for a split second, and then she released it. She let go entirely. She was gone. Azaila, the love of Iroh's life, was now lifeless before him. His dream had died. He wept silently, but he thought of his new dream: Lu Ten, for he was all that was left of Azaila, and part of her would always live in him.


End file.
